


just once before you go

by impossiblyincredible



Category: Archive 81 (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode 28, F/M, Getting Together, Slow Dancing, Sort Of, it's about! what they're not saying!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblyincredible/pseuds/impossiblyincredible
Summary: She can feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she tries to internalize it. To commit it to memory. Lou’s callused hands in hers, his not-quite-smile lit up from the side, all of it. She has to remember this. He’s still looking at her in that way of his, and for once Chris can’t think of a single quip she could make to lighten the moment.
Relationships: Christine Anderson/Lou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	just once before you go

**Author's Note:**

> recommended listening!! think san bernardino by the mountain goats minus the vocals :) hope you enjoy!

“They’re beautiful,” Chris says, breaking the silence. Lou doesn’t startle—probably heard her coming up—but he turns back and gestures quickly for her to join him at the railing. Some stars are still faintly visible, but the sky is getting brighter, and it’s shaping up to be an easy day of sailing. A breeze ruffles her hair as she crosses the deck of the Irons, and she leans on the railing, painfully aware of the four or five inches separating them. 

“Oh, just wait,” Lou replies, a smile in his voice. “They’ll start singing when the sun comes over the water, and then you’ll see.”

“What are they?”

“Dunno, really. Not sure they have names. I call them fireflies, though.” 

“Fireflies it is, then,” Chris says, turning her gaze back to the bright specks of light hovering over the waves. They’re mesmerizing, bobbing and weaving around each other like nothing she’s seen before, and it strikes her how much she’ll miss the strange dream-logic of this place. The Irons, the crew, and— she clears her throat and swallows hard. Not now.

The very first rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, turning the surface of the waves golden, and right on cue, the fireflies begin to croon. Chris’ eyes widen, and she glances at Lou in awe. The fireflies don’t all sound the same, but the song is beyond beautiful— some of them chime in short abrupt notes, like a string being plucked, but others harmonize, soaring over the others, and each note slots beside the others like that’s the only thing they were made to do. She hears Lou chuckle a bit when she gasps softly, but she swats at him, glaring at him absently.

“How long do they  _ do _ this, dude?” Chris asks, trying to keep her voice down. “This is— it’s incredible.”

“Five or six minutes, give or take?” Lou says, considering. “I’ve only ever seen them twice before, though, I’m not sure.”

“Damn,” she replies, trying to think of something else to say, but her attention returns to the music, and she sways just a little, letting go of whatever thought she was hanging onto. 

The fireflies seem to be following the Irons as it floats atop the water, and when Chris slowly reaches out a hand, they don’t shy away. They hover around her hand, but she barely feels anything more than a faint tickle, and she turns to Lou triumphantly, and he smiles fondly back at her. God, he looks— with the breeze ruffling through his hair and the lights dancing in his eyes, he looks like everything she’s ever wanted. Everything she wants.

Clearing her throat, she pulls her hand back, looking back at the fireflies as they lose interest in her, rejoining the group. 

For another minute they stand there, side by side, watching the fireflies spin their intricate song, and Chris tries her hardest to not catalogue her  _ lasts _ like she’s been doing for the past few days. Is this the last strange song-creature she’ll encounter? The last early morning she’ll spend with Lou? 

She’s been trying to savour it, to carve every detail of her time here into her memory, but even she can admit it’s an uphill battle. Dreams have, after all, always been hazy for her.

“Do you—” Lou begins, glancing at her. “Do you want to dance?”

Chris’ heart skips a beat at the question, but she manages a measured inhale. Lou’s looking at her, in that… that  _ way _ he always does, the one that makes his eyes seem deeper than the ocean, and she tears her eyes away, fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt. 

They’re close, or so she’s told, to the dream-whale-leviathans that live at the farthest explored reaches of the world, which means they’re close to the ambergris. It had always seemed so far away whenever Chris thought about it, like a goddamn mirage on a road that never ended, but now she can’t stop thinking about how little time she has left, and she swallows roughly. She might never see Lou again. She might not even  _ remember _ him.

“I— uh, I don’t know how,” she says, daring a glance up at Lou just in time to see his face fall. “Haven’t exactly done that in a while.”

“... Right, that’s fair,” he says, after one long moment. “Neither do I, now that I think about it, so—”

“Do you want to figure it out?” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself, but she can’t bring herself to regret them. Not when such a soft look spreads over Lou’s face like the sun. He nods, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

There isn’t really any getting closer, per se, but Lou shifts slightly and Chris takes both his hands, and just like that, they’re swaying gently to the rhythm of the fireflies’ song. She can feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she tries to internalize it. To commit it to memory. Lou’s callused hands in hers, his not-quite-smile lit up from the side, all of it. She has to remember this. He’s still looking at her in that way of his, and for once Chris can’t think of a single quip she could make to lighten the moment.

She doesn’t want to do that, though. 

Lou pauses. “Can I…” he asks, letting one of his hands hover over her waist. His voice is so quiet, just barely above a whisper, and Chris nods, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. She brings her free hand up to his shoulder; she’s not sure which of them takes the step forward, but now they’re pressed together, and she rests her head on his chest. 

Chris will  _ not _ cry. She won’t. 

The music floats back into her consciousness and she tries not to think about anything but that. Tries not to think about his hand on her back, his shoulders curving in on her. Tries not to think about forgetting.

They sway back and forth, letting the fireflies fill the silence with their tremulous melody. She’s close enough to hear Lou’s heartbeat, to hear his breath hitch when she winds her hands through the hair at the back of his neck. He’s so  _ solid _ , she thinks, grounded in more ways than one, and as she wonders if she’s ever known anyone even remotely like him.

(The answer, of course, is no. Not a single person in either world she’s lived in is like Lou.)

How long they shuffle back and forth like this, Chris couldn’t tell you. She knows what they must look like, standing at the starboard railing and clutching each other tight, but it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels  _ right _ , so right that her heart simultaneously soars and aches with it. Why couldn’t they have figured everything out earlier? But even as she thinks that to herself, she knows the answer; they’d both known that she would, one day, go home. That everything between them, with the rest of the crew, all of that would be a dream, idly fading in the daylight when she’d inevitably wake up.

And Chris knows that. She’s not about to abandon Nick. But  _ God _ , she needs more time here, in this strange world, with this strange crew and its strange (lovely) captain.

The fireflies’ music is fading, notes dropping and the melody getting more and more sparse. It sounds like violins, she thinks, singing one last lonely song. 

And still Lou doesn’t pull away. She understands; as soon as they let go they’re going to have to admit that the moment is over, and neither of them wants that. If she hangs on for just a bit longer, she gets to live in a world where they can have… this just a little longer. 

Her heart skips a beat (several beats) when she feels Lou kiss the top of her head, and she looks up at him, unsure of what she’ll see on his face. It is, as it turns out, nothing but unabashed affection, and the bastard doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed; it spills out through his eyes, and it’s almost too much for her to bear. 

“Lou…” Chris starts, but he shakes his head. Good thing, too, because her voice is getting dangerously shaky, and she doesn’t think she could finish that sentence without a tear or two slipping out.

“Come back to me, alright?” He bends down and kisses her on the forehead again, a sweet, lingering thing. “I know you can. You’re bloody brilliant, yeah?”

“I will,” she says hurriedly, letting out a nervous laugh. “I am. I’ll find a way, I promise.”

Lou smiles, and it’s like she’s seeing it for the first time. The sunlight makes him radiant, she thinks. Always has. 

And with that, the moment’s over. She can’t even tell whose grip loosens first, but she’d rather it that way, not quite knowing who let go of who. Lou exhales hard, and she scratches the back of her neck nervously, but neither of them break eye contact; after a moment, Lou’s lips quirk up in an easy smile, and the knot in Chris’ chest loosens just a bit. 

They’ll be okay. She has to believe that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! come talk to me about a81 on @archivistim on tumblr <3


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